***
He decided to head Matthew's advice. He wasn't going anywhere near that club. If she was so fickle, and so childish and immature that she was afraid of her own growing attraction to him, and maybe even love, as she screamed out when she came, she was going to need to grow up and get over it. He cared for Lynne a lot already, but he wasn't just going to sit around forever until he was old and gray, playing with himself to satisfy fantasies of her, and praying that she'd pay attention to him and talk to him.
Life moved on. As much as he wanted his life to move on...with her involved...if she didn't come around soon, he was moving on without her!
He didn't even want to play at that damn club next door to her's anymore. Couldn't stand the thought of running into the sweet creature. Next month they would book clear across town.
He had to get that scent, that flavor, and that sweet tan skin out of his mind. Couldn't think of anything but running his fingers through her soft ethnic hair. Gently caressing those damp coarse curls between her thighs. The damp musky heat on his finger tips. That urban accent moaning that she loved him. Even that cute little snort.
Damn. Just Damn. Why was it, that the only woman he'd ever wanted, was scared to death to get close to him. He'd never hurt her. But, he was frustrated and didn't know how to convince her that he was harmless. He didn't know what else he could do to convince her that he cared, and wasn't a ski mask wearing monster. He simply wanted to get to know her. He felt so angry he started to delete her number from his phone.
Then, one day, about a week and a half later, he got a cryptic text message from Lynne. Though he tried to stifle it, all those familiar warm feelings rose up in his heart again. Quickly though, he got them in check.
Little Miss Faucet, she had some damn nerve ignoring him for almost a week and then texting him again. She was a little tease, and she'd been cold last week, now his little Miss Faucet was running hot again for him.
He grinned. He couldn't wait to see what she wrote. He was still smitten. Delighted that the text proved he still had a chance.
Maybe he should give her a dose of her own medicine for her to see what she was losing. Teach her a good lesson. And then, after she apologized, they could resume getting to know each other. He'd even lovingly try to convince her that..he felt serious about her...once he told her about herself.
But she had to stop acting like a such a crazy ass woman. Hot one day and cold the next. Every time she did it, she hurt his feelings. And it wasn't fair. He had half a mind to hurt her feelings too, just so she knew what it felt like, and then, they could start afresh together.
If she came clean, he could admit...he thought what he was feeling, for her cute little crazy ass was love. Then maybe she'd stop acting so ridiculously frightened of him. Why was he falling for the crazy girl scared to death of all her feelings? Just his luck, the first woman he'd ever really felt like he could love was crazy as shit.
***
Lynne heard it in the cupboards as soon as she woke up in the morning, scratching, squeaking and sounding as though it was chewing through paper.
Shit!
She thought that living on the sixth floor would have shielded her from mice. She did pretty well to live alone, compared to the way she was when she lived at home. She'd been terrified of bugs. But she got over that. She had no problem killing spiders, and the few creepy crawlers that made it up to the six floor. But this mouse shit was on another level.
She knew it was a mouse, because her parents occasionally got a mouse in their huge palatial Brooklyn Heights row house. She and her mother made so much noise and did so much squawking that her father either promptly trapped it, or got an exterminator to do so.
Now that she was living on her own, she knew what she had to do. Try to get that damn mouse herself before nightfall.
She got up, took the rollers out of her hair, and pulled on a turtle neck and a decent pair of jeans.
When she walked into the kitchen she saw him scamper across the living room floor.
"Oh my God, Oh My God!" she screamed.
He was big, and grey. The damn thing almost looked like a rat he was so big.
She was petrified. She ran out of the house without even lacing up her timberland boots, slamming the door behind her.
She bit her knuckle.
"I gotta kill that god damn mouse!" she shouted aloud then looked around to see if anyone heard her talking to herself.
She tried calling her super on his cellphone. He was an old Jewish guy, and even though the lease didn't require him to do certain things, he was kind and would help single women with certain tasks. Lynne had made sure to give him a nice card with money over Christmas and he'd appreciated it.
She told him about the mouse, but unfortunately he couldn't come, he had to deal with plumbing issues in one of his buildings on the other side of town. When she couldn't get her landlord, she called her father.
"We're having a Bible Study tonight, and potluck afterwards. And I've got business with the Taxi company in the city today...If you can make it to bible study, I'll see about your mouse," he said.
